When she walked into the kitchen, Julie was already changed and setting up the blender. When she saw her new friend she said, “Oh my god Charlotte, you look sensational.”Charlotte checked Julie out in her black two-piece with a sarong tied around her waist, leaving her midriff bare, and said, “So do you,” and then she added, “Damn, I would kill for your abs.”Julie laughed and said, “I was just thinking the same about your tits!”“Well I’ll trade my tits for your cute little ass,” Charlotte replied.“You’re crazy, I have a skinny ass, but I would love that junk that’s in your trunk,” Julie said with a giggle. It was obvious that the wine had melted any inhibitions, and as Julie handed Charlotte a margarita, she said, “Typical women, we always want what someone else has; let’s go get some sun.”When they reached the deck, Julie set down her drink and then untied her wrap, and Charlotte saw why her ass looked so incredible under the material, she was wearing a tiny thong. As she ogled her. I do love the cheeky wiggle of your bare toes on the fluffy rug. It’s tempting to tickle them with my tongue. I smile into the page at that thought but decide to toy with you a bit more.I set my narrowed eyes on you. Make me! my smirk whispers. You snatch my book out of my hand roughly and chuck it aside. How dare you! You’ve just made me lose the page now.You pull my T-shirt over my head. I’m being undressed like our three-year-old (minus the screaming tantrum) yet it feels strangely erotic. You seize my chin and part your lips, ready to attack with a hungry kiss.But it never comes.The sorrow void churns the nothingness in the pit of my stomach, like an ice cream maker running empty. Disturbing. Wrong.I’m here; hanging, waiting - for something that I’m conditioned to expect. Something, that always comes, always has before.Not this time. The worst thing is, there’s no triumphant look on your face. Just a glazed, wooden stare. Nothing. Like seeing a ghost. You’re here, yet not truly.
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